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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25329247">Encroaching Darkness</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/larklemon/pseuds/larklemon'>larklemon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Emerald Eyes [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abused Harry, Ahh I don't have any more tags, Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Alice and Frank are fine, Because they are children and thats weird, But only eventual, Drarry, Eventual Romance, F/M, Gen, Gonna get sad before it gets happy, Good Severus Snape, Gray Harry Potter, Harry Potter Has a Pet Snake, He didn't fall in love with her, Hogwarts First Year, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, I'll make this a series if people like it, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, James wasn't such a bully, Lily Evans Potter &amp; Severus Snape Friendship, M/M, Parselmouth Harry Potter, Peter Pettigrew was the traitor, Ravenclaw Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley Bashing, Slytherin Harry Potter, Slytherin Politics, Smart Harry Potter, This is not following the first book storyline</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:28:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>20,080</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25329247</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/larklemon/pseuds/larklemon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dursely's lived at number four, Privet Drive, and prided themselves on being normal. The lawn was always cut, the flowers weeded, and the hedges trimmed. Vernon Dursley had a perfectly respectable job, Petunia Dursley had perfectly respectable friends, and a perfectly respectable time after their wedding, they had a son, Dudley Dursely. All in all, there was absolutely nothing remarkable about the small family. Until October 31st, 1981, when a small boy with brilliant green eyes and a peculiar scar on his forehead was left on the doorstep in a basket, accompanied by nothing but a letter.<br/>*<br/>*<br/>*<br/>Not your typical rewrite - I'm not following along with the books, I'm merely borrowing characters and locations. Severus Snape and Lilly Potter never had their friendship broken, the only love he felt for her was familial, and James Potter wasn't a total dickwad. As such, Snape is not a Death Eater, Peter relayed the prophecy, and also fuck Albus Dumbledore. Enjoy!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Minor Sirius Black/Remus Lupin - Relationship, Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood, Pansy Parkinson/Blaise Zabini</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Emerald Eyes [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1834567</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>658</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Rainy Day Reads</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Perfectly Respectable, Thank You Very Much</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The Durselys lived at number four, Privet Drive, and prided themselves on being normal. The lawn was always cut, the flowers weeded, and the hedges trimmed. Vernon Dursley had a perfectly respectable job, Petunia Dursley had perfectly respectable friends, and a perfectly respectable time after their wedding, they had a son, Dudley Dursely. All in all, there was absolutely nothing remarkable about the small family. Until October 31st, 1981, when a small boy with brilliant green eyes and a peculiar scar on his forehead was left on the doorstep in a basket, accompanied by nothing but a letter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> It wasn’t until the early hours of the next morning that the boy was discovered by Petunia, who always went outside to get the newspaper for Vernon in the morning. Her shrill scream broke the silence that surrounded the small neighborhood, bringing a panting Vernon to the front door, brandishing a butter knife. His wife turned from where she stood in the doorway, a peculiar look in her eyes, and no color in her cheeks. “My sister…” she whispered, looking between the letter in her hand and her husband, “she’s dead. Her husband as well.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She now looked at the small boy laying on her otherwise perfectly respectable porch. He hadn’t made a sound, and if not for the fact that the newspaper was laying inches from where he was, Petunia almost could have missed him altogether. One could almost see the gears turning in Vernon's head as he continued to try and catch his breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The boy,” he grumbled, it being far too early for these kinds of mental gymnastics, “is it theirs?” Petunia nodded. Neither adult moved to pick up the boy, who despite the bitter chill in the air looked content where he lay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We-we have to take him in.” Vernon's eyes nearly bulged out of his head as he swung his head towards his wife. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“TAKE HIM IN-” he began to yell, taking a step back as though he could forget the entire situation by simply returning to the kitchen, where he had been sitting and enjoying his breakfast before all this madness began. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shush!” Petunia shrieked, glancing up and down the street. A few house lights were turning on, and she could only imagine what the rumor mill would say if they were caught outside with a baby in a basket. She quickly shoved the letter back in the basket before picking it up, but nearly dropped it when she felt the small bubble of warmth surrounding it. Just as quickly as it was noticed, it was gone. She turned, shoving her husband, who was now muttering crossly, back into the hallway. She closed the front door just as her nosy neighbor Mrs. Wilson pushed her curtains open, her breath practically fogging up the glass. Petunia quickly sat the boy, who she still hadn’t acknowledged the name of, on the ground before flitting around the house, making sure all the windows and curtains were shut. Once that was done, she slowly returned to the hallway where Vernon stood, now reading the letter that had been left to them. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>                  Dear Mr and Mrs Dursley,</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>             I write this letter with a heavy heart. Tonight, on the 31st of October, Lily and James Potter were killed by the dark wizard Lord Voldemort. </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Your nephew managed to survive against all odds, and thus the purpose of this letter comes to light. There are no other living relatives alive to take him, and I’m afraid it is imperative he remains with blood family. Lily’s dying spell was one cast out of pure love, one that in order to continue to protect young Harry, must be powered by close proximity to family by blood. You must keep him, and love him as though he were your own. The fate of the wizarding world could depend on it. I hate to burden you with this great responsibility but know that I will be alerted if you turn the boy out. Heed my warning, Petunia. The next letter may not be so kind.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Warm regards,</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Vernon looked at Petunia as he finished the letter, his brow furrowed. “Is he going to be a-a-a freak? Like your sister?” He hadn’t thought his wife could get any paler, but she now seemed nearly translucent and looked as though a gentle breeze could knock her over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” She hung her head, breaking her normally proud posture. Vernon was almost more shocked by that than the rest of the morning’s events. No matter the situation, from disagreeing respectfully with a neighbor to Dudikins' birth, she always had a sense of composure about her. Petunia gave herself a few seconds to wallow in self-pity before straightening her spine, a determined glint in her eye. “We won’t raise him like one,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. (Not that Vernon had any intention of arguing with her about it, of course.) “We raise him normal, as normal as we can.” Vernon nodded but quickly scrunched up his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We couldn’t possibly raise him next to our precious Dudley. What if the boy does something strange?” Petunia took a moment to appraise her husband. He was by no means an intelligent man, but then again, that was why she had married him. But that thought was far beyond his normal mental capabilities. With a sharp nod, she spun on her heel and marched towards the stairs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There,” she said, pointing at the small cupboard under the stairs, used for storage of the clothes that Dudley regularly outgrew. Vernon nodded before tugging the door open, releasing a cloud of dust into the air. The two coughed, hands waving in front of their faces as they waited for it to settle. Petunia peered inside the small space, giving it an approving glance before making up her mind. It was the perfect place to raise the spawn of her freak sister and her freak husband. Petunia wasn’t all too bothered by her sister’s death, they hadn’t been close in years. If anything else, she was frustrated by the inconvenience of the entire situation. But she was good at working with what she was given, adapting to less than ideal circumstances. This small boy would be no different. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Besides</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thought to herself as she walked back towards the basket holding her nephew, </span>
  <em>
    <span>the old fool only said we couldn’t turn him out.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Golden Rules</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Harry knew from a young age that he wasn’t normal. At least, not in his aunt and uncle’s eyes. He had once asked what the definition of normal really meant, and if Uncle Vernon’s weight or Aunt Petunia’s habit of spying on the neighbors was normal. The two had looked at him funny for a few seconds before a fist came hurtling towards his face and all went black. By the time he woke up, he was locked in his cupboard again. Harry had sighed, accepting with a certainty that most young children his age didn’t have that perhaps asking questions was best left to Dudley. And thus Harry’s first golden rule was born - Don’t Ask Any Questions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Harry was six or seven, (he was never quite sure exactly, as his Aunt and Uncle never deemed it important to tell him. He often woke up and decided his age for the day, and that particular day he was six and three quarters,) he discovered he had magic. He had been weeding the backyard, as his aunt had decided she wanted to throw a backyard party for her bingo friends but didn’t want to do any of the work involved in throwing said party. Harry had been outside since before the sun rose, his hands covered in scratches as he attempted to tame the roses that Aunt Petunia was so fond of, when he found himself wishing very hard that he had gloves small enough to fit him. He blinked, and when he looked at his hands he let out a soft gasp. His bleeding hands were now covered with a small pair of blue gloves. He looked around wildly, as though he would be able to spot whoever had managed to slip the gloves on his hands without him noticing. Not seeing anyone, he shrugged in the way that children do when they don't quite understand something and got back to work. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pruning of the roses went much faster when he didn't need to worry about digging thorns out of his fingers, and he was done before noon. He had gone inside to fetch his aunt and stood silently as she slowly went around and inspected each rose bush as if trying to find a single flower out of place. Harry attempted to hide his smirk as his aunt's frown got more and more pronounced, but unfortunately for him, she caught it. “What do you think you’re smirking at, </span>
  <em>
    <span>boy</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” The way her lips curled around the word ‘boy’ made it seem as though it was the dirtiest curse in the world, and the distaste she had for him was clear in her eyes. His smirk quickly disappeared, and he bowed his head. This, unfortunately, brought his aunt's sharp eyes down to his hands, which, he later reflected, had been foolish not to hide behind his back. “Where,” she began, slowly walking towards him, her voice low, “did you get those.” Harry couldn’t help but let out a mental sigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I made them appear,” he said softly, closing his eyes as though he could hide from his statement. Nothing was said in response, and Harry opened his eyes, daring to glance upwards at his aunt. She stood frozen, eyes wide. It took him a second to put his finger on what her face looked like. By necessity, Harry had become quite adept at reading faces, but this was one he had never seen before. With a start, he realized it was fear. He had only seen it on her face once, the memory foggy as he dragged it up. Dudley had gotten it in his head that sliding down the banister was the best way to spend the few seconds his mother had left him alone and was about halfway down when Petunia had reappeared. She had taken in the scene with her beady eyes, and fear had shown through. She had gasped loudly and ran up the staircase to grab the young boy before he could slide off the end. Harry, of course, had wound up being blamed and had spent three weeks nursing his bruises. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snapping back to the present, Harry and his aunt stood frozen. Petunia’s lips slowly began to twist as though she had just bitten into a lemon. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out. Suddenly, her eyes darted around, remembering that she was in her backyard, and the watchful eyes of the neighbors, who already found Harry’s presence odd, were almost definitely following her. Grabbing Harry’s arm, she dragged him inside, muttering under breath as she pasted a bright smile on her face. Harry could only catch snippets of it, but ‘freak’ and ‘magic’ were among those repeated most. Harry stumbled as he tried to keep up with her, her desperation to escape the prying eyes making her strides long and impatient. Veron wasn’t home yet, which Petunia found extremely frustrating. She didn’t enjoy disciplining the boy, believing it beneath her. But she was also scared. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She and her husband had tried their best to keep all hints of the M-word out of their house, banning any movies or video games that had witches, wizards, spells, or magic. Yet here it was, bursting into their lives anyways. Petunia remembered her sister’s first accidental magic, although it had happened much younger than it had for Harry. She pretended that the warming spell around his basket was cast by the Dumbledore fool and not Harry. Finally reaching the boy's cupboard, she shoved him inside, his shoulder slamming into the wall. He didn't so much as whimper, and Petunias fury doubled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Give me the gloves, freak,” she snarled, and thought for a second it looked as though the boy would argue, but he quickly acquiesced and handed over the beautiful blue gloves. Petunia grabbed them, slamming the door to his cupboard shut. “Vernon will deal with you later, boy.” Despite his best efforts not to, Harry couldn't help letting out a shiver. He wasn't sure what this magic was, or why it made his aunt so fearful, but he knew right then and there that he now had two golden rules: Don’t Ask Any Questions, and Absolutely No Magic. (At least not where anyone could see.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Vernon got home, Petunia pulled him away from Dudley, who was nearly screaming for his father's attention, and furiously whispered to him what had happened. Vernon's face slowly became a color that closely resembled a beet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll take care of the freak, you entertain Dudley.” His wife nodded, lips pursed. Vernon strode to the small cupboard under the stairs, mentally berating the old coot who felt it fair to leave the stupid boy on his porch all those years ago. As he slid his belt from his pants, he felt a grin slide onto his face. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Quartzel the Grass Snake</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>By the time he was about ten, Harry had become quite good at using his magic, as well as hiding his use of it from his family. Anytime he felt tempted to use his magic to bring his aunt and uncle to their knees, he remembered the first scar he ever got, a perfect imprint of his uncle's belt buckle on his hip. He had accumulated many since then, littering his back, stomach, arms, and legs, but that first scar served as a permanent reminder to bide his time. When he had begun practicing in his little cupboard, it had taken him three weeks to be able to lift one of the broken figurines he had squirreled away after Dudley had thrown them out. (He had sat on them, leading to a rather memorable trip to the emergency room. Harry thought he might pass out from holding in his laughter.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He got better the more he practiced and was soon able to unlock his door at night. He would have loved to steal food, but Aunt Petunia was obsessive about keeping track of it. He instead would go on nighttime walks, his disregard of his own safety while wandering around Little Surrey at night at the small age of six frightening. This was how he discovered he could talk to snakes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On one of his more adventurous walks, he had decided to skirt the edge of the park near his aunt and uncle's house. It was there he heard a small voice, piping up from somewhere in the underbrush. *</span>
  <em>
    <span>Mom? Momma?* </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry paused before leaning down close to where he had heard the voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello? Is someone there?” For a moment, it was quiet, then he heard it again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
  <em>
    <span>Stupid human, with their stupid feet! I should bite you. Maybe that would make me feel better.* </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry blinked before rubbing his eyes. But there, in the shadows of the tall grass, lay a small grass snake. It was small, small enough to fit perfectly in Harry's palm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hello.* </span>
  </em>
  <span>The snake reared its head, tongue flickering in and out of its small mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>*You speak,*</span>
  </em>
  <span> it said, surprised. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>*Can I?*</span>
  </em>
  <span> Asked Harry, scratching his chin. </span>
  <em>
    <span>*Huh. Well, I do have magic, so maybe that's it.* </span>
  </em>
  <span>The small snake bobbed its head as if in agreement, and it slithered forward slowly. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>*Maybe you can help me,* </span>
  </em>
  <span>it said, sounding sad.</span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>*I can try,* </span>
  </em>
  <span>said Harry amicably. He sat down on the damp grass, legs crossed, and offered his hand to the small snake. It paused a moment before deciding Harry wasn’t going to hurt it. (Harry had been right - it fit in his small palm perfectly.) </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>*I’m trying to find my momma. She was here, then a big shadow swooped down and she was gone.* </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry nodded as the little snake described how it had been searching all night, but wasn’t having any luck. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>*I think,*</span>
  </em>
  <span> said Harry hesitantly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>*I think your mom may have been eaten.* </span>
  </em>
  <span>He said it in the way only a small boy could, with little regard in how his words might be taken. The snake went still, and both the boy and snake sat in silence, Harry trying to be respectful and the small snake trying to comprehend that its mother was gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>*Well, then I guess I’ll stick with you.*</span>
  </em>
  <span> The snake said this as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Harry paused a moment before nodding. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>*It will be nice to have someone to talk to,*</span>
  </em>
  <span> he said, scrunching his nose. </span>
  <em>
    <span>*But you have to stay outside, no matter what.* </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry brought his hand up to eye level, determined to make sure that this baby snake understood how serious he was. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>*Alright,* </span>
  </em>
  <span>it said easily. Pleased, Harry smiled as he stood up. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>*You need a name.*</span>
  </em>
  <span> he said as he began the walk back to his house. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>*My mother called me Quartzel.* </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, Quartzel it is.” When Harry got to his house, he scampered into the backyard, mindful to not make any noise. This would be a terrible time to be caught by his aunt or uncle, especially with a snake around his neck. He gently laid Quartz in the grass and watched as she decided where to claim her own. She finally settled on the very back corner of the yard, hidden by the house and often untouched by even Harry. There was long grass here, and it was close to the pond that the Dursley's had installed to one-up their neighbor's water fountain. After bidding her goodnight, Harry slipped back into the house and to his cupboard under the stairs, more than content for the first time in a while. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he grew up, so did Quartz. She was fully grown by the time she was three, reaching about three feet. Harry continued practicing his magic and was soon able to levitate Quartz, which she enjoyed to no end. He could also summon things, and if he stashed away food, he could multiply it. He had tried to create food once, but it hadn’t worked. Creating water, however, was very easy. All in all, by the time he was ten, he was quite good at this magic business. And the better he became, the angrier he got. At his parents, for dying, which he knew was irrational of him. They couldn’t have controlled the car accident anymore then he could. But he couldn't help it. It was a small feeling in the pit of his stomach, where the worst of his feelings festered. He was also angry at his aunt, uncle, and cousin. He was starved, beaten, forced to do constant housework and chores, and never called Harry. The only reason he knew his name was because he was enrolled at school and his teachers called role. It was the only thing he was ever happy about at school. Not that he couldn’t keep up with his classmates. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He excelled at everything. So when his teachers naturally asked about his weight, the dark circles under his eyes, and the fading bruises he was always covered in, he got his hopes up. But a conversation with a stern-faced Vernon Dursely and a weeping Petunia and all the questions went away. Eventually, the teacher stopped asking and Harry stopped hoping. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Harry's fury grew, Quartz became very skilled at talking the anger out of the young boy. She was incredibly protective over him, and although she had no venom, the number of times she had been tempted to bite the Dursely's was quite high. The more Harry thought about, the more he realized using his magic against his relatives was stupid. What would he do after that? He didn’t have anywhere to go, and no orphanage would take him and Quartz in. So he instead borrowed a book on meditation from the library, and every night practiced emptying his mind, clearing it of the negative and focusing on the positive. He even became quite good at taking some of the nastier memories he had and locking them up tight. As he grew better at meditating, his anger began to dissipate. Why should he be angry at his parents? It felt like a waste of time to be so bitter towards people he couldn’t even remember, people who had no control over their own death. As for his relatives, Harry decided they were too stupid to treat him any other way, and left it at that. He also figured his teachers were just as idiotic, if not more, and thus all his anger was gone. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Eleventh Birthday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>  It was July 31st, 1991. Harry Potter’s eleventh birthday. Severus had been looking forward to this moment since he first learned of where Dumbledore had placed the child. He had tried to get the old man to let him take the child, citing his and Lily's friendship, along with his amicable relationship with James.  But no matter how hard Severus argued, he had insisted he be placed with family by blood and claimed that in the Potter’s will they had wanted Harry to go to the Dursely's. So Severus had been forced to wait ten long years. He had planned a million different ways to introduce himself to the son of his dead best friend, but none ever seemed quite right. But no amount of planning could have prepared him for what was to come. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Severus Snape arrived at number 4 Privet Drive at exactly noon, dressed in muggle clothing as to blend in. Walking up the drive, he noticed flickering curtains from the house next door and had no doubt he was being watched. He rang the doorbell and stepped back, mentally preparing himself for the last time to meet Harry James Potter. “BOY! Get the door!” Came a loud shout from inside. Severus frowned. He knew only two boys lived at this address, one being Harry and the other Petunias son. He heard shuffling footsteps coming towards the door, and it swung open slowly. No amount of self-control could stop Severus’s mouth from dropping as he took in the sight before him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A small boy, looking to be no more than eight or nine, stood in the doorway, his bright green eyes looking up at Severus through a mess of black curls. He was painfully skinny, that much was obvious, even with the baggy clothing surrounding his thin frame. A too-large pair of glasses were perched at the end of his nose, duct tape barely holding them together. From what Severus could see of his arms, they were a mottled green and yellow, with scars disappearing up his sleeves. “Harry?” Asked Snape, his voice hardly more than a whisper. The young boy studied the man before him, taking in the look of shock on his face. He nodded sharply. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boy! Who’s at the door?” A large man waddled into view, his neck hardly distinguishable from his head. He gulped in air as he walked, as though each step was a fight against gravity. Severus took control of his facial features and stood up straight. He didn’t miss Harry's flinch as the man neared, or the way he held himself carefully, as though breathing the wrong way would be his last mistake. It was a look Snape recognized, having worn it many times himself as a child.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “My name is Severus Snape, Mr. Dursley. I have come to discuss Harry’s future schooling with you and your wife. Is she in?” Vernon drew himself up, puffing out his chest in an obvious attempt to cut as striking a figure as Snape.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “What schooling?” the man asked gruffly, laying a heavy hand on Harry’s shoulder. Harry grimaced but held still. Snape’s eyes flickered down again, then back to the walrus of a man before him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Petunia is aware,” he said stiffly, unwilling to disclose any more information when the entire neighborhood was clearly listening in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Vernon? Where did you go, lunch isn’t over ye-” Petunia froze in the hallway, her words caught in her throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Petunia,” said Snape, nodding his head politely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you know my wife, </span>
  <em>
    <span>sir?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Severus turned and looked back at Vernon, whose complexion was now a bright red. Harry took advantage of his momentary distraction and danced away from his grip with a practiced ease.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “I was friends with her sister,” replied Snape, appearing bored with the conversation. Internally, he felt as though he would burst from anger. Vernon took a step back, face now darkening to plum. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You-you’re one of those freaks!” He pointed a meaty hand at Snape, his finger trembling. “We’ll have no part of that in this house!” Severus ignored the man and looked back to Petunia, who seemed to be coming out of her trance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go to your room, boy,” she hissed, and Harry darted away. Severus’s eyes followed him and narrowed as they watched him duck into a cupboard under the stairs. “What do you want, Snape?” She spat out, closing the distance between herself and her husband. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As I informed your husband, Petunia, I’m here to discuss Harry’s future school arrangements. Should I come inside?” As he asked he crossed the threshold and swung the door shut behind him. Vernon began sputtering, an incoherent mess, but quieted when Petunia shushed him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The boy will have no part in that...school of freaks, and neither will we. Now, you clearly know your way in, so kindly show yourself out.” Severus stood still, considering the scene in front of him. Harry was abused, that much was obvious. Not once had he witnessed Vernon or Petunia call him by his name, and if the slight tensing of the boy’s face when he asked his name was anything to go by, it wasn't used often.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Now Petunia,” he said, his voice soft yet deadly, “you and I both know that's not how this works.” He stepped forward, and the two paled and stepped back. “Now,” sneered Snape, “why don’t we go sit down like the civilized people we are, and discuss this like adults.” Gripping her husband's arm with claws, Petunia nodded, ignoring Vernon's sounds of protest. She led the two men into the drawing-room, which was her pride and joy. Decorated with the best furniture and latest fashion trends, though she knew the effect was lost on Severus. She studied him as they sat, and he pretended not to notice. He was taller than when she'd last seen him, although his nose was still the same. His hair wasn’t as greasy as she remembered, and he looked odd in his muggle slacks and vest. The three sat in silence for a moment, before Petunia cleared her throat, garnering herself a raised eyebrow from the wizard on her sofa. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen, Snape,” she began in her best no-nonsense voice, “that boy? He is staying here. There is no way we are paying out of our pocket to send him to some freak school like my sister.” Severus still said nothing, his face impassive. He pretended not to notice as the cupboard door swung open silently, and the small boy crept forward on silent feet. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Impressive, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought to himself. He turned his attention back to Petunia, who was still droning on about freaks and money. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me this Petunia,” he interrupted smoothly, “you have told the boy of his magic, yes? And his parents? The sacrifice they made?” Petunia made an odd choking noise and turned desperately to her husband. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look,” Vernon said, standing up as though being briefly taller then the wizard would give him the upper hand. “We have not told that boy a damn thing, and neither will you. We don’t want a freak living with us, but we can’t get rid of him. We are definitely not sending him to some expensive boarding school in the middle of nowhere, to be taught how to be more of a freak, with other freaks!” His voice got louder the longer he spoke, and by the time he finished his short speech it had risen to a shout. Snape's eyebrow, similarly, drew higher up his face the longer Vernon spoke, and he burst from his seat as the other man finished speaking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you telling me,” he began, his voice low, “that Harry has no idea who James and Lily were? That he’s a wizard?” His voice stayed soft and even, but doth Dursely's paled as the man continued to speak, his eyes flashing with obvious power. “That boy, that young man, is a wizard. Nothing you can do, including trying to </span>
  <em>
    <span>beat </span>
  </em>
  <span>it out of him, will ever change that. He is going to go to Hogwarts, he is going to learn who he is, and there is not a single thing the two of you can do to stop that.” The two muggles looked at him like gaping fish, but he didn't wait around for them to continue to speak. His head already hurt from the amount of occlumency he was using to keep his emotions in check. He walked to the doorway where Harry stood. “I know that this must all seem very confusing, but I can explain it all when we get to Hogwarts.” The boy studied him, and Snape found himself tempted to use legilimency to see what Harry was thinking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So we’re leaving then.” Snape snapped himself out of his thoughts, startled. He realized, rather belatedly, that Harry had not spoken a single word since his arrival. He nodded, trying not to let the surprise show on his face. “And will I be coming back here?” Harry asked, face void of any emotion. He didn't dare to get his expectations up, not again. Nothing had ever worked out in his favor before, and he could scarcely believe that this odd man was really going to rescue him from his relatives. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harry,” said Snape, lowering himself down on one knee as to see the boy better, “I swear on my magic you will never have to return here again.” The air filled with a faint humming as the magic sealed itself in its vow. Harry's eyes widened in shock. He adored his magic and would be hard-pressed to ever swear anything on it. But he also allowed himself a sliver of hope, the first in a long time. Severus watched as Harry processed the fact that he would never return to the Dursley's. He hadn’t made the promise on his magic lightly - but he knew there would be no other way that Harry would believe him. He could only hope that he was able to keep it.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Pet vs Familiar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Alright,” said Harry, breaking the odd silence that had fallen between them. “Are we going then?” Snape blinked, flickering his eyes towards the couple in the drawing room, as though daring them to move. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should gather your things,” he said softly, speaking to him as he would any child his age. Harry's eyes flared and he jutted his chin out, mouth firmly set in a line. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Snape-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Professor.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Professor </span>
  </em>
  <span>Snape. Please do not talk to me as you would a wounded puppy. I don’t need to be coddled like a child.” Snape paused, unused to being spoken in such a manner. Bowing his head slightly, he nodded his agreement. Harry, slightly baffled that he hadn’t been hit for speaking with such cheek, spun on his heel and headed to his closet. He peered inside, taking in his ratty mattress, his torn blanket. Broken toys he had smuggled from the trash, a library book stashed under the stained pillow. Only pausing a moment, he grabbed the book then swung the door shut. He hoped it was the last time he ever did that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that it?” Snape said, surprise evident in his voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It's not mine,” replied Harry, “it needs to go back to the library.” Snape choked with rage and only years of practice allowed him to push down his anger. His fury had not gone unnoticed by Harry, who had taken a half step backward and pivoted slightly, ready to sprint at the first sign of trouble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>”Are you sure there is nothing else?” Snape said, attempting to keep his voice calm. Harry paused, and Snape suddenly found himself being scrutinized with surprising force. He could tell that Harry was deciding whether to trust him or not, and he tried to look as trustworthy as possible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes…” He said slowly, brow furrowing. “I have a pet.” Snape blinked. That definitely wasn’t what he expected him to say. He could hear Petunia sputtering, so he cast </span>
  <em>
    <span>Muffilito</span>
  </em>
  <span>, ensuring their privacy. Harry's eyes followed the wand movement closely, and pointedly raised an eyebrow at Snape. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My version of a silencing spell,” he said smoothly. Harry nodded once, then gestured for Snape to follow him. The boy led him through the kitchen and out the backdoor, to a small grassy nook hidden behind the house. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Perhaps a cat?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Thought Snape, confused as to what else it could be. He then heard Harry hissing, and a grass snake appeared in the corner of his eye. He couldn't contain the gasp that escaped him, and Harry turned to him, hand raised as though he could physically stop him from making any noise. “Harry,” he rasped out, “can you speak to snakes?” Harry nodded as the snake slithered up his arm and settled around his neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>*Who is this human?* </span>
  </em>
  <span>Hissed Quartz, peering at the funny man before her. He smelled like her Harry did, like raw power. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>*He is taking me away from here. But I won’t go with him if you can't come too.*</span>
  </em>
  <span>  Snape still hadn’t spoken, frozen in shock. While parselmouths weren’t common in the wizarding world, they were still widely discussed. Whispers would follow anyone who could speak to snakes, and they were almost always believed to be evil. Most famously, the last parselmouth was Lord Voldemort, the very man who killed his best friend and left Harry orphaned. Speaking of Harry, he realized the boy was watching him closely, a protective hand curled around his snake's head. He knew he would need to handle this situation delicately. He had no doubt that the boy would refuse to go anywhere without his pet, so he needed to think fast. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Snakes are...not really allowed on school grounds.” He waved his hand, cutting off Harry's exclaim of outrage. “However, there is a spell, a ritual really. It would make her your familiar. By law, familiars must be allowed to go anywhere their masters.” Harry, who had been preparing to politely tell the man to leave, took a moment to contemplate what he was saying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What's the difference between having Quartz as my pet and as my familiar?” Snape smiled. He knew the boy was smart, and he was glad he was asking the right questions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Having Quartz as your familiar will allow your magic to become stronger, and will extend her life to be as long as yours. You also might be able to speak to her telepathically, but that depends on how strong your magical core is.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My magical core?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not much is known about it,” he said, easily settling into his professor mode. “It's what gives us magic and muggles none. Its strength depends on a few different things. The age of the castor, the amount of practice with any one spell, and luck of the draw.” Harry nodded, seemingly pleased with the answer for now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do we make her my familiar?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll need to go to Gringots, the wizarding bank.” Snape responded, internally wincing at how much the ritual would cost. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do I have any money?” Harry asked, stroking Quartzel’s head. Snape tilted his head to the side, contemplating the question. He knew the Potter’s had been well off, so theoretically, Harry should have a good chunk waiting for him to claim. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would think so.” He said, noticing the boy's relief at the statement. “Are you ready to go now?” He asked, not wanting to assume anything was normal about Harry again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” he replied, looking at his meager belongings, which consisted of only the clothes on his back and Quartz. “Could we return this book before being on our way?” He held up the library book, which Snape had entirely forgotten about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” he sighed. Harry let a small smile, so small and so quick that Snape wasn't sure if it had ever been there, slide across his face. “We’ll be traveling by apparition, which is a form of teleporting, into wizarding London. How far is the library?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only a few minutes,” said Harry, already turning to leave. With an almost imperceptible shake of his head, Severus spun on his heel and followed. Nothing was said on the short journey, and soon Harry was waving goodbye to Ms.Wright, the nice librarian. She had helped Harry when he first came into the library, small and asking if he was allowed to read any book in the whole building. She had watched as over the years his reading comprehension became better than most grown adults, understanding texts that even she had trouble getting through. She would be sad to see him go, but she saw the way the odd man with him had watched Harry - as though he could imagine nothing more important than protecting the young man in front of him. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Color of Magic</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello! I once again have a laptop... I am also so sorry I was gone for so long! To everyone who commented while I was gone, thank you very much. I kept writing while on my phone, but just got this computer today and rushed to get this chapter done. I made it extra long, just as a thank you for sticking around. I really hope you enjoy! I do have a plan for where this story is going, but updates will be every week or so as I now have a full time job. Anyways, enough about me. Read on!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry stumbled as they landed, his stomach twisting uncomfortably as he adjusted to his new surroundings. He checked his neck to make sure Quarztel was still there and quickly asked her if she was alright. It wasn't until she had hissed back a confirmation that he truly looked around him for the first time. His breath caught, his mask shattering. He slowly spun in a circle, taking it all in. He and Snape stood before a large staircase which witches and wizards hurried up and down. It led to a large stone building, the word ‘Gringotts’ looming prominently. Across the cobblestone street stood an assortment of buildings, each proudly displaying their wares. Harry could see a candy shop, a large wizard handing out free sweets to the gaggle of small children surrounding him. Owls swooped through the air, and throngs of magical folk crowded the streets. There were no sidewalks, which confused Harry until he realized with a start that there were no cars. A group of teenagers stood outside what looked like a broom shop, ooing at the display in the window. A cauldron shop was nestled next to Gambol and Japes, the posters in the windows displaying the latest prank quill. He studied the attire of those surrounding him, robes, hats, and wand holsters standing out the most. </p><p>He turned towards Snape, who had been watching him take in the alley with a small smile on his face. As soon as they had landed, he had cast a subtle disillusionment charm, not wanting the masses to swarm Harry. He watched as the amazement spread across Harry's face, and was reminded of the first time his mother had brought him to Diagon Alley. “Are you ready to go inside?” He asked, and Harry's mask shuttered back into place. The young boy nodded sharply, his eyes now firmly on Severus. Almost unconsciously, he stroked Quartzel’s head, the snake having hardly moved since they had arrived. If Snape didn't know better, he would say she was asleep. But he did know better and was well aware that the minute she felt Harry was in danger, she would strikeout. Gesturing for Harry to follow him, he turned and began to walk up the stairs to the bank.</p><p>As Harry followed Snape up the stairs to the entrance, he contemplated how much everything had changed. Not only did he now know his birthday, but he was apparently a wizard, and no longer had to stay with the Dursleys. He couldn't quite wrap his head around it, and he was sure that if Quartzel’s reassuring weight hadn’t been on his shoulders, he would have been freaking out. Realizing they were nearly at the doors, Harry snapped his mind back to the present. He didn't want to miss a single thing. Snape slowed, glancing back at Harry as if to check he was still there. It gave him an odd feeling in his chest - he wasn't used to people caring if he was there or not. Standing before the large bronze doors were two squat figures donned in scarlet and gold robes. They looked most odd to Harry, who couldn't help but stare. They had long fingers and noses, round heads, and were almost as pale as the white stairs Harry and Snape had just climbed. Harry, assuming these were goblins, nodded to them stiffly. He wasn't offended when they didn't give any indication of having seen him - it was a response he was quite used to. Snape didn't even bother to acknowledge them, and instead walked straight past them. The large doors swung inwards, revealing a narrow hallway that led to another set of doors, also flanked by two goblin guards. Here Snape slowed, and subtly drew Harry's attention to the words engraved on the silver doors before him.</p><p>
  <em> Enter, stranger, but take heed </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Of what awaits the sin of greed, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> For those who take, but do not earn, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Must pay most dearly in their turn, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> So if you seek beneath our floors </em>
</p><p>
  <em> A treasure that was never yours, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Thief, you have been warned, beware </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Of finding more than treasure there. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Harry turned and raised an eyebrow at Snape, thoroughly unimpressed. “So, no stealing then?” He said, a small smirk flitting across his face. Snape contemplated him for a moment, then turned on his heel and continued inside. Harry had to work hard to contain his gasp of awe as he followed behind the man. He and Snape were now in a vast marble hall, huge stone columns and grand arches every hundred feet or so. Craning his neck upwards, he peered at the intricately carved ceiling depicting grand battle scenes. Long counters lined the hall, each manned by goblins busy assisting various witches and wizards. </p><p>Severus had stopped, patiently waiting for the young boy to finish taking in his surroundings. It was refreshing to see him rattled by something, as so far his face was almost as emotionless as his own. Harry was currently spinning in a slow circle, and Severus was once again thankful he had cast the disillusionment charm. He would need to take it off before approaching a counter, but for now, Harry could act as young as he wanted, and no one would know any better. Glancing around him, he saw they were starting to gather a few curious glances. The goblins might not be able to see through his magic, but they could tell someone was using a spell to hide from them, and murmurs were beginning to spread. He cleared his throat, and Harry's attention was immediately on him. Even after a few hours around the boy, he still wasn't used to the intensity behind the stare. With a quick <em> Finite Incantatem </em>, he canceled the charm and gestured for Harry to join him by his side. Together, the two approached a counter where a bored-looking goblin stood. “Name,” he said, looking down at the small boy before him. </p><p>“Harry Potter.” The goblin blinked slowly, his eyes roaming over Harry's face until he glimpsed the infamous lightning bolt scar hiding under his bangs. Severus stepped forward, deciding it was time for him to take control of the situation.</p><p> “We would like to speak to the account manager for the Potter accounts.” He didn't bother with pleasantries, as goblins didn't take any sort of interest in wizarding formalities. With one last look at Harry, the goblin nodded stiffly before disappearing into the doorway behind him. Snape and Harry stood silently, both deciding to address the goblin's reaction to Harry's name at another time. The goblin reappeared before them, his sneer now firmly back in place. </p><p>“Vladshik is the manager of the account in question. He asks that you come with me to his office.” Pressing something on his side, a portion of the counter swung inwards, and he gestured for them to follow him. Harry paused only a moment, letting Severus take the lead. It was a moment of weakness he detested, but he figured that given all that had happened that day, he was allowed one or two. The goblin led Harry and Snape back through the doorway he had first gone through, which ushered them into a long hallway. Bronze lanterns lined the hallway every few feet, dimly illuminating what appeared to be an endless number of doors in both directions. Harry strained his eyes as far as he could see, but there didn’t seem to an end to the hallway. The goblin didn’t even stop as the wizards paused to take in their new surroundings, continuing his brisk pace. Both Harry and Snape had to quicken their steps to catch up, although only Severus managed to look as though he was not running. </p><p>They walked for an indecipherable amount of time. It could have been minutes since they entered the hallway, but it was impossible to tell since there was no change in scenery. Occasionally a door would swing open and another goblin would appear, head buried in whatever parchment was in their hands. Just as Harry was about to ask if it was going to take much longer, the goblin abruptly stopped. He gestured to a door on the left, and Snape squared his shoulders before knocking. A moment passed, then another. No one moved. Then, a gruff voice called out. “Enter.” Severus swung the door open, and he and Harry stepped into the office. Like the hallway, it was dimly lit. Parchment covered most surfaces, as did various jewel-encrusted daggers, goblets, and necklaces. Sitting behind a large desk was a fat goblin, a small pair of glasses balancing precariously on the edge of his nose. He motioned for Snape and Harry to take a seat before steepling his fingers. “So this is the young Mister Potter,” said Vladshik, his beady eyes locked with Harry's. The young boy nodded, but otherwise remained perfectly still. This goblin was an unknown factor, and Harry wasn’t sure how he would react to any of Harry's cheek. Severus leaned forward, face blank.</p><p>“We would like to have an inheritance test done, as well as a familial locator ritual. Harry would also like to bond with his snake.” Vladshiks face remained impassive as he summoned a piece of parchment and a quill. </p><p>“The inheritance test is done once a lifetime at no charge, but the other two are rituals, and as such are quite expensive.” Snape nodded. He had been expecting this, and while he hoped James and Lily had left money for Harry, was prepared to pay out of pocket if need be. Harry now sat forward, hand resting unconsciously on Quartzs head. The snake had remained quite still for the majority of their visit to Gringotts, but her tail was now flicking back and forth as she picked up on Harry's unease. “This ritual to bind Quartz to me,” he said, his voice faltering slightly. “It won't hurt her?” </p><p>“No,” replied Vladshik, who now had multiple parchments floating around his head. “We will, of course, require your blood, but the ritual is painless for the animal.” Harry sat back, clearly relieved. Snape frowned. He wasn't pleased with the amount of concern Harry showed his pet, but not himself. He expected it of course but made him unhappy. With a wave of his hand, three forms slipped out from under a closed door behind Vladshik. “It will be just a moment to prepare the rituals, but the inheritance test is quite simple.” He gestured for Harry to come forward, a blank parchment and small dagger appearing on the desk in front of him. “You need to make a small cut and land six drops of blood on the paper.”</p><p>“That's it?” Asked Harry, knife in his hand, and disbelief clear in his voice. </p><p>“Yes,” Vladshik replied, a hint of anger in his voice at being questioned. Harry shrank back slightly before straightening his back and making a quick slice to his outer forearm. This caused both Vladshik and Snape to raise an eyebrow. Most witches and wizards made cuts to their inner palm, which almost always required a healing spell to make sure no damage was caused. All three watched as four, five, six, drops of blood landed on the paper. Harry pulled his arm back, running his finger over the small cut almost absentmindedly. Snape stood up to offer to heal his arm but sat back down in shock when he saw that Harry had already healed it. Even a small spell like that, at Harry's age, with a wand, should have been incredibly difficult. His mind whirred furiously as he realized just how powerful Harry truly was. With a sinking feeling in his chest, he couldn't help but feel that Dumbledore already knew this, which meant nothing good to come in the near future. </p><p>Harry watched, oblivious to his professor's internal struggle, as the blood seemed to sink into the parchment and words began to appear. Vladshik snatched the paper off the desk before Harry could get a proper look, and the boy had to hold back a sigh of frustration. It seemed not even goblins were immune to treating him like an imbecile. He crossed his arms, his previous fear all but forgotten. Vladshik paused in reading the paper to properly look at the small boy before him for the first time. He was used to dealing with the many wizarding folks who came through is office every day. Most showed disgust, as though they couldn't imagine anything worse than dealing with a goblin. Some showed fear, as though the goblins would turn on them at any moment. </p><p>He had noticed the boys flinch earlier, but it had rung differently than usual. As though the boy was scared of the world around him, not just the goblin before him. Now, however, he stood before him with his arms crossed, a steady gaze meeting the goblin before him. Vladshik had heard stories about the boy who lived, the whole of Great Britain had. Nothing had prepared him for the small boy before him though. His complexion was pale, and the shadows under his eyes were prominent. His hair was just long enough to cover the scar on his forehead but looked like a bird's nest. His clothes hung off him, and Vladshik suspected from the way the boy walked that his shoes pinched his feet. He heard the wizard behind the boy take a breath, as though finally realizing the glaring war happening between the other two in the room. Before he could get a word in, however, Vladshik handed the paper to the boy. Surprise flitted across his face, and a small hand reached out to cautiously grab the offered paper. “Thank you.” Vladshik blinked. He often ignored wizarding pleasantries, determining them not worth his time, but this young wizard was different. “Of course,” he said softly, pointedly ignoring the gasp from the sallow-faced man. The boy smiled, a faint thing, before turning and heading back to his chair. The snake around his neck let out a small hiss. Vladshik was not a parselmouth but knew enough of the language to understand what she had said. <em> Thank you.  </em></p><p>Harry sat, hardly daring to look at the parchment in front of him. His entire future depended on the paper saying he had some sort of money to depend on. Taking a deep breath, he allowed his eyes to focus on the paper and couldn't help his jaw-dropping.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Harry James Potter </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Born July 31, 1980 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Number of vaults - Four </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Potter Vault -James Potter, father, deceased</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Black Family Vault - Sirius Black, Dorea Black </em>
</p><p>
  <em>(Funds and assets are distributed to those in the will when an individual goes to Azkaban or is declared mentally unstable)</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Gaunt Family Vault - Great uncle on fathers side, deceased</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Peverall Family Vault - Great-great uncle Ignotus Peverall, deceased</em>
</p><p> </p><p><em>Total Galleons: 1,906,164 galleons </em> <em>Total Pounds: 9,492,706 pounds</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Potter Vault: 653,765 galleons, 14 sickles, 18 knuts</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Black Vault: 319,028 galleons, 8 sickles, 12 knuts</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Gaunt Vault: 514 galleons, 9 sickles, 11 knuts</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Peverall Vault: 932, 857 galleons, 2 sickles, 19 knuts</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Snape had been reading over Harry's shoulder and his eyes widened as he took in how much money had been left to the small boy before him. Harry could go years without needing to work if he wanted. He glanced at Vladshik, who seemed to be looking at Harry with some kind of affection. That was almost more unsettling than the amount of money Harry now had. “Would you like another moment, or would you like to continue with the rituals?” Snape glanced at Harry, whose eyes had glazed over slightly. Quartz was hissing quietly into Harry's ear, and after a moment he seemed to come back to himself. </p><p>“Let's do the rituals.” Vladshik nodded, and without warning two goblins entered the room from behind him. Vladshik stood, and motioned for the two wizards to follow him. They walked single file, Vladhsik in the lead, and the two goblins trailing behind. The door behind the goblins desk led to a circular room, with a single chair in the middle of it. Harry, prompted by Vladshik, sat down on it. </p><p>“For the familial ritual, you’ll need to once again make a small cut. This ritual will need slightly more blood then last time, so if you begin to feel dizzy simply say so and we can give you a blood replenisher potion.” Vladshik waited for Harry to nod in understanding before continuing. “This ritual uses both your blood and magic to reach out and discover living relations of yours. These two goblins here, Ulkus and Kolrgrig, are trained to read the magic in the room and manipulate it to give them names.” Severus stood to the side as Vladhsik described exactly what the ritual would be. He had never witnessed one before, as he had no reason to, but he knew that Vladshik was being kinder to Harry then he would to the average wizard. He didn't know why, but he was grateful for it. </p><p>“Let's do it,” said Harry, green eyes blazing with determination. The two goblins stepped forward, the one Vladshik had called Ulkus gripping a familiar silver knife in his hand. He handed it to Harry, who with just as little hesitation as last time made a slightly larger cut on his inner forearm. Kolrgrig held out a small bottle and Harry carefully held his arm over the opening. Once the bottle was about half full, he pulled away. Harry healed the small cut on his arm as Ulkus and Kolrgrig began to chant in low voices. Harry leaned his head against the back of the chair as the room suddenly filled with a brilliant explosion of greens, purples, reds, and blues. The light danced around the room, filling every crevice. Severus gaped. It was one of the strongest displays of magic he had ever seen, especially from one so young. Beside him, Vladshik also stood frozen. He had seen many rituals, hundreds, but never one so powerful, so pure and full of hope. </p><p>Ulkus and Kolrgirg continued to chant, heads bowed as they fought to contain some small part of Harry's magic. Their fingers flew as they wrote down name after name on the scrolls floating in front of them, and Snape's awe was slowly replaced by rage. Albus had sworn up and down no other relatives lived beside the Durselys, yet here was proof he had been lying. Just as soon as it appeared, it was gone. The magic that had filled the room flowed back into Harry, who sat forward with a gasp. No one said anything, the heavy panting of the two goblins filling the room. The scrolls dropped to the floors, and the goblins stumbled back in an unprecedented show of weakness in front of wizards. </p><p>“Did it work?”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Fifty-Three Lies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Shoutout to LuxLacy for kicking my butt into gear and getting me to post again.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Harry glanced around the room, brow furrowed in confusion. No one had said anything yet, which was making him uneasy. Maybe it didn’t work, maybe he had messed something up. Or maybe he had asked one too many questions for the day. He couldn’t help but curse at himself for breaking his second golden rule so many times. It had just become so easy, as Severus and Vladshik were much different than the Durselys. Snape, sensing the turmoil beginning to brew in the boy, stepped forward. “Yes, Harry, it worked.” Harry nodded, slightly reassured. Vladshik was checking on Ulkus and Kolrgrig, their voices low as they spoke quickly in Gobbledegook. Harry shifted from one foot to another, still uncomfortable. Just as he was about to speak up again, Vladshik turned towards him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Mister Potter. It seems you are a very powerful wizard indeed.” Harry glanced down at Quartz before looking back up. He had worked for years to hide his magic, fearful of the reactions from his aunt and uncle. His body was covered in scars that showed the hard lesson he received when he was unsuccessful. But now, looking between Snape and Vladshik, he saw nothing in their facial expressions that hinted at rage or even annoyance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do I have any relatives besides the Dursleys?” He held his breath, hardly daring to hope. Vladshik quickly crossed the chamber to where the scrolls had fallen and picked them up. His eyes ran over them quickly before looking up at Harry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mister Potter, you have far more family left than anyone realized.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“May I see it?” Vladhisk nodded, and Harry quickly read over it. It was moments like this he was glad he had an eidetic memory, as right now all he could focus on was the number of names displayed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This one as well.” Harry looked up and froze for a moment as he remembered there was still another scroll. His breath caught, and slowly grabbed the other paper. As he counted the names, his hands began to shake with anger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Fifty-three,” he whispered. “I have fifty-three blood relatives.” Severus, who had only seen one sheet in completion, let out a muttered curse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Albus Fucking Dumbledore,” he sneered. “The lying bastard.” Suddenly struck by a thought, he spun and looked intently at Vladshik. “Who had access to Harry’s vault while he was at his aunt’s house?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Albus Dumbledore claimed he was the sole recipient of the will. Given his close relationship to James and Lily Potter, the fact that he is the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, the ministry ordered us to give him access. As we could not open the will ourselves without a request, we could not contest the claim.” Harry felt more rage pumping through his veins than he ever had before. Not even a beating from his uncle or a litany of insults from his aunt had brought this much emotion forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we get records of what he did with the account?” Both wizard and goblin turned to the small boy. Vladshik nodded, looking contemplative.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It isn’t done often, but it doesn’t take long. I’ll get Jerflan, the goblin who checked you in, to check up on it.” Harry nodded, looking very much older than his eleven years before returning to the issue at hand. He handed the papers to Severus, already running the names through is head again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fifty-three blood relatives. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He couldn’t quite believe it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I recognize many of these names, but some of these are muggles. It doesn’t look like you have any close wizarding relatives, but this family here is promising,” said Snape, pointing to a small family branch on the paper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Longbottom,” Harry read aloud. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a distant relation for sure, but it’ll hold up in wizarding court with a decent lawyer.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are they kind?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They knew your parents. They were good friends of theirs, and have a son only a day or two older than you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How will we get in contact with them?” Asked Harry, his thirst for more knowledge about this world overruling his ever-present anxiety over asking questions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We will send them an owl. We don’t need to tell them why they are being asked to come here, we can simply say its a matter of Gringotts business,” said Vladshik, conjuring a paper and quill as he spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” It was uttered so softly that both Vladshik and Severus nearly missed it. They nodded, silence falling over the small group as they all processed what had been revealed. It was broken by Quartz, who was hissing animatedly. Harry hissed back, Snape and Vladshik watching the exchange with fascination. To see one use such a gift in such an open manner was almost unheard of, and though Vladshik had met a few parselmouths in his time, they had all been old wizards full of spite and paranoia. Harry was different. He wasn’t aware of how unique his power was or how powerful his magic. Harry looked at Vladshik, a small smile on his face.”Quartz wants to know if we can do the ritual now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course Mister Potter. If you will once again have a seat, and I will gather the necessary items.” Harry easily compiled and returned to the chair in the middle of the room. Vladshik left the room and quickly returned with a small case. As he walked up to Harry he swung it open and revealed a set of small knives, five in total. “Mister Potter, if you would please choose whichever knife calls to you the most.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry took a moment, not wanting to make a rash decision. After a minute or so, he selected the one in the very middle. It was the smallest of them all, hardly longer than a few inches. The handle was an exquisite piece, intricate designs carved into it, and a Latin inscription curling around it. The blade was the longest part of the small dagger and seemed to be made of a delicate crystal. Vladshik nodded approvingly before snapping the case shut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You will need to place your snake on the ground for the ritual.” Harry gently set Quartz on the ground, and Vladshik could almost feel the weight of her gaze. “Please ask her to remain close to you without touching.” Harry hissed the instructions, and Quartz slithered a little closer to her master. Vladhsik turned and walked a few steps away before reaching into his pocket and pulling out what looked like a piece of chalk. Gesturing for Severus to step back, he waved one of his long fingers through the air, creating an intricate floating pattern. He then released the chalk, which dropped to the ground and shattered. However, instead of simply becoming broken pieces of chalk, it ground itself into a fine powder. The floating sign flashed brightly before disappearing. The dust now began to swirl around, twisting this way and that way until it finally settled. Severus recognized it first, being the tallest in the room. The pattern Vladhsik had drawn in the air was now on the floor, made up of the mysterious powder. It hadn’t visibly touched Harry or Quartz but was somehow underneath them all the same. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, Mister Potter, please make a small cut on your forearm and drop the blood around Quartz. Make sure the circle goes all the way around her, but don’t get any on her.” Harry nodded as he followed Vladhsik’s instructions. Snape could now feel the air begin to hum with magic and took another step back. “Now Harry,” called the goblin, raising his voice to be heard over the buzzing in the room. "Repeat after me. You must say it twenty-nine times, not one more or less, and let as much magic flow out of you as naturally as you can.” In a low voice, Vladshik began to chant in a low voice, the Latin rolling off his tongue easily. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Creaturae ex composito est, magia, spiritus et animae.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry began to repeat after him, brow furrowed in concentration. Snape watched in awe as once again Harry’s magic began to swirl around the room. It was more concentrated this time, pressing up closely against Harry and Quartz. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vladshik walked backward slowly until he was standing next to Snape. “He never has spoken Latin before, yet he repeats it with ease.” Murmured Vladshik, a hint of awe in his voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a feeling,” Snape replied as Harry’s chanting slowed, “that there is a great deal about that boy that we do not know.” Vladshik merely nodded in agreement before approaching the now silent Harry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did it work?” He asked, looking up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said everything perfectly, Mr. Potter. Do you feel a small part of your mind, one that feels slightly different than the rest? Not an uncomfortable feeling, just… odd? Take your time.” Harry frowned as he tried to do as the goblin said. A few moments passed before his normally reserved features transformed into a grin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can hear her!” He said excitedly, scooping Quartz off the ground and holding her tight. “She’s saying that she’s hungry and that she’s getting very tired of this room.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vladshik’s mouth fell open. Snape did a double-take, unable to help himself. While the goblin had been displaying a great deal more emotion than one would normally ever see from his kind, this was an entirely different level. This was an open, unmistakable, look of complete shock. Such expressions were said only to be worn by goblins three to four times in a lifetime. Shaking his head, Vladshik recovered, though his eyes were still a bit wide.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Potter, are you saying you can already recognize her presence in your mind, and also her thoughts?” Harry’s smile faltered a bit, his eyes flitting between Snape and Vladhsik.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that... Is that not okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On the contrary, Mr. Potter, it is spectacular. We knew from the previous ritual that you were a very powerful wizard, but this, this only proves it further. No witch or wizard in recorded history, besides the founders of Hogwarts, has been able to identify a familiars presence in their mind in under an hour. You, Mr. Potter, are quite extraordinary.” Snape, seeing the young wizard was getting quite uncomfortable with the praise, cleared his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps a conversation that would be better had in your office?” Vladshik’s eyes flashed in understanding and turned to lead them back into his office. Harry sent Snape a grateful if somewhat hesitant look before following the goblin. Snape let out a long sigh. He wasn’t naive. He knew the chances of Albus being unaware of the boy’s powers were slim, and he was in no way looking forward to dealing with the man. He might not be aware of the extent of them, however, and that Snape would work hard to keep the same.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Magenta Robes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Can I just say, to all the people who read and leave comments and kudos, this chapter is for you. Thank you for keeping me going. &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Harry followed Vladshik back into his office, head swirling as he tried to keep his cool. So much had changed, and he was breaking his Golden Rules left and right. Asking questions, showing his magic. And now he could hear Quartz in his head, and he was apparently some great, all-powerful wizard. But that must be wrong. Because he was nothing more than a freak. An unlovable nobody meant only to be silent and take whatever his uncle decided he could handle. A nuisance. He let out a shaky breath and his steps faltered slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Master? Are you alright? Should I bite the goblin or the greasy man? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Quartz muttered in his mind, tail twitching as she considered her two possible victims.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No, Quartz. It’s alright. I just… need a second to catch up. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Quartzel bobbed her head in understanding, forked tongue flickering out to give Harry a small kiss on the cheek. Harry could feel Snape’s eyes boring holes in his back, but he kept his eyes on the ground and refused to look up. He wasn’t completely sure, but sometimes when he met his eyes he felt the strangest feeling, as though a fog was trying to enter his mind. He had blocked it, using the same tricks he used to block his memories, and the fog always quickly retreated. A door swung open, startling Harry. He flinched, his brain so unfocused he half expected to see his uncle waltz through the door, belt in hand. But it was just the goblin that had led them to Vladshiks office earlier, and Harry silently chastised himself and straightened his back, eyes hard as he pushed the memories back down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sir, I have the will you requested. It was sealed, heavy enchantments placed on it. It took fourteen goblins to beat them, and three are drained and in recovery. We haven’t opened it, as the original seal meant only Severus Snape, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, or Albus Dumbledore could open it.” Snape’s brow furrowed as he stepped forwards. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Albus claimed he was the only one who could open the will, and that it had stated that Harry was to go to his aunt and uncles.” The goblin standing in the doorway shook his head as he handed the document to Vladshik.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it was never opened. The original goblin who sealed it, Marlkrish, had no memory of doing so. It takes powerful magic to spell a goblin with that kind of memory block, and even more so to place the kinds of enchantments that were on it.” Vladshik growled a deep animalistic growl that reverberated around the room. Harry’s eyes widened a fraction before he took a deep breath, relaxing back into the chair he had sat down in while the goblin was talking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” said Vladshik, teeth clenched. He turned and handed the will to Severus, who took it without a word. He had all but known that Albus had been lying to him, it was part of the reason he had stayed at Hogwarts. He didn’t love teaching, but he had wanted to stay and make sure he could meet Harry when the time came. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harry, this is your parent’s will, so I don’t want to open it unless you want me to. Is it alright for me to break the seal and read the contents out loud?” Harry looked up, startled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, yes. I suppose,” he stuttered, looking vaguely uncomfortable at someone asking him for permission for anything. Snape nodded and pressed his finger over the seal. He felt a small poke as the magic drew his blood to verify his identity, face impassive. After a moment, the seal snapped and the scroll slowly unfurled. Clearing his throat, he began to read it out loud. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Dear whoever is the poor sod reading this letter,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh my. I had certainly hoped, as had James, that this will would never be opened. Not until we rewrote a new one that is, in our old age. We wanted to be reading this and laughing at how morbid we were at such a young age. But here we are. I assume, of course, that we are either dead and incapacitated. Neither appeals to me, but I hope for Harry’s sake it’s the former. No child should have to watch their parents wither away. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Now. On to the not so fun bit. Custody of Harry James Potter, and ownership of our many vaults. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Custody of Harry James Potter shall fall to Severus Tobias Snape, first and foremost. My best friend and closest confidant. I know children are not your favorite, but I believe that you will be an amazing parent.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>In the case that Severus is unable or unwilling to take custody, Remus Lupin and Sirius Orion Black shall have joint custody. Moony, Padfoot, please take good care of him. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Under no circumstance is he to go to my sister Petunia Dursely.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>On to the vaults. Both James and I have our main vaults, each with a fair chunk of money in them, not to mention the older inherited vaults. However, both of us have around 17 other vaults containing family heirlooms, portraits, and other various bits and bobs. The value of these vaults is both priceless and almost nothing, as a lot of it, has only sentimental and emotional value. Both James and I have had portraits painted, and those reside in these vaults as well. We leave these vaults split between Severus Tobias Snape, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Orion Black. All contents will automatically go to Harry when he is 11. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Harry’s lordships are complicated. Dumbledore, much to our chagrin, managed to convince James and I to give him a core block potion. The reasoning was to avoid bursts of accidental magic while in hiding, but we are now afraid he did much more than this. Harry’s appearance has slowly been changing, not enough for proof, but enough to notice.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We can’t be sure, but we feel he gave our Harry more potions than he told us about. Please, make sure our son is alright.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Harry - We love you so, so much. It was never our intention to leave you, and we are so sorry. I hope that you can forgive us. We are so proud of you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Much love, </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>James and Lily Potter.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The room was silent. Not even Quartz, who had been hissing quietly while the will was being read made a sound. Severus had twin trails of tears down his face, unbeknownst to him. He hadn’t cried since the night Lily and James died. Harry was shaking, his small frame curled up into itself as he tried to process exactly what had just been read. Vladhsik was shaking as well, but out of rage. His teeth were grinding together in an overwhelming effort to not growl again. Not only had Albus Dumbledore most likely spelled both the will and one of his goblins, but he had purposely placed Harry with an abusive family and dosed a baby with potions. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, a loud pop echoed through the room. There, in bright orange and magenta robes, stood one Albus Dumbledore.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Albus Dumbledore was used to things going his way. A lifetime of people not only respecting his ideas and thoughts but acting on them had made him grow comfortable with the amount of power he wielded. This is why when he went to check the wards he had around Petunia and Vernon’s house he was confused. It showed that not only was Harry not there, but there was also an active spell cast besides his own. With a frown, he turned on his heel and disapparated. He arrived in the back corner of the Dursleys yard, a disillusionment spell already cast. Wand at the ready, he confidently walked up the back stairs and into the house. Something felt off in the house, but he couldn’t tell what it was. Suddenly it clicked. The house was completely silent. The few times he had visited over the years, Dudley had almost always been screaming at his mother for something. Vernon could be found in front of the television, ignoring the chaos around him. And Petunia would be yelling at the boy for not doing his chores fast enough. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>While he had been vaguely uncomfortable with the way the boy had been treated when he was younger, he had since grown used to it. It benefited him, having the boy broken. It would make him all the more desperate to please those around him, mainly Dumbledore himself. And this was all, of course, for the greater good. He had worked hard since then to keep all his plans in order, from sealing the Potter’s will to using his Wizengamot seats. Severus had been a slight wild card as he hadn’t taken the dark mark as Dumbledore had hoped. If he had, it would have given him a fantastic way to control the man. But instead, he had nothing except the slowly fading memory of a friendship with a dead woman. Invoking Lily names, and sometimes James’, and the promise of Harry joining the school when he was eleven had kept Snape close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shaking his thoughts away like unwanted cobwebs, he came upon the drawing-room. A quick wave of his wand showed that two spells were in place - </span>
  <em>
    <span>contineo, </span>
  </em>
  <span>a rather weak ward meant to keep occupants inside a selected area, and a powerful </span>
  <em>
    <span>muffilito. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It was the second spell that caused Dumbledore to frown in concern. While most of the teachers knew Severus’s muffling spell, there were very few who could cast it as powerfully as this one had been cast. Finally glancing inside the room itself, he saw the three Dursleys crammed on the couch and armchairs, each one snoring. They had clearly given up trying to escape. Dumbledores frown deepened. The fact that Harry and presumably Severus had been gone long enough for them to fall asleep was alarming. He needed to catch up to them, and quickly. He dismantled the spells with a lazy flick of the wrist before turning on his heel and disapparating. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once he arrived at Hogwarts, he strode down the path to Hagrid’s house. He was supposed to be getting Harry today, painting Harry’s first view of the Wizarding world with the idea that Dumbledore is a good and kind man. If Severus got to him first, his plans will start to fall apart. Now even bothering to knock, Dumbledore sweeps in the small cabin. He crinkled his nose slightly at the smell, but as soon as he spotted Hagrid it transformed into a grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hagrid! How are you, old friend?” He said, opening his arms wide, eyes twinkling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dumbledore, sir, wha’ brings you ‘ere?” Hagrid said, standing to greet the older wizard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s about Harry, you see,” said Dumbledore, his girn turning slightly more somber. “I was wondering if you received my owl about picking him up today? Along with that special package from Gringotts, of course.” Hagrid nodded vigorously, his chest puffing out in obvious pride. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I did. I was plannin’ on leavin’ ‘ere soon, but Fang needed some love.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dumbledore was hard-pressed not to react at all. His plans, his years of scheming, lost because a mutt needed some attention. The twinkle in his eye slightly dulled, he grinned at Hagrid one last time before leaving, not even bothering to inform the giant oaf what he had done wrong. He would figure it out when he got to the Dursleys and there was no Harry, but it wouldn’t do for anyone to realize just yet that Dumbledore knew he was missing. They would ask too many questions, and Harry’s upbringing might be brought to light. No, it would be much better to wait. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He managed to avoid all members of staff on his way back to his office. Everyone knew when Harry Potter’s birthday was, and he had no doubt in his mind that Minerva would ask why his letter wasn’t among the ones being delivered to muggleborns. It definitely wouldn’t do for her to realize how Harry had been treated by the horrid muggles. He stood in his office and paced. Nothing was going according to plan. He didn’t understand. He had been planning for this day for ten years, yet Snape had managed to ruin it all. Shaking his head, he decided his pity party was now over. He needed to locate Harry Potter.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Edit: YA’LL, I cannot even begin to explain how much all of the amazing comments mean to me! It makes me feel so inspired! Thank you, thank you, thank you so much for reading and loving my story. &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Fawkes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello hello! Enjoy, my lovelies</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Snape immediately stood, wand out and pointed at Dumbledore. Harry, not understanding who the man was, sunk lower in his chair. His magic was practically screaming at him to stay away from the wizard, but for some reason, Harry was fighting the compulsion to walk towards the tall man. Frowning, he focused solely on the link with Quartz, and the feeling died down a bit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Snape, my boy! What are you doing here? You know Minerva is the one responsible for talking to students raised by muggles, there was no need for you to come all the way out here.” Dumbledore’s eyes were in full old man twinkle mode, his hands clasped together behind him. The overall effect was one of a grandfatherly image. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Albus, how surprising to see you here,” Snape said through gritted teeth, unconsciously stepping in front of Harry. Dumbledores eyes flashed dangerously as he saw how protective Snape was of the boy, but it quickly disappeared. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vladshik stepped forward just as eight fully armed goblins brandishing spears ran into the room. “Mr. Dumbledore, it is forbidden for any witch or wizard to apparate, floo, or portkey into Gringotts, as stated in article 32, section 8, paragraph 41 of the Ministry Banking Agreement with Gringotts. Anyone who breaks this rule is subject to all accounts and assets being suspended indefinitely.” Dumbledore finally looked away from Harry and Snape, his grin only deepening. The goblin warriors behind him had formed a tight half-circle around him and were only waiting for the word from Vladshik. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, my dear Goblin-” Dumbledore was interrupted by a deep, threatening growl from both in front of and behind him. His smile flickered, showing true fear before it was once again covered up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am no friend of yours, </span>
  <em>
    <span>wizard,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” spat Vladhsik. “I will not repeat myself again, however, I understand if I must be blunter. Tell me how you appeared in my bank, or I will personally see to it all your funds and assets are seized.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dumbledore was now frowning, his displeasure obvious. He was unused to being spoken to this way, and he certainly didn’t enjoy it. But he dismissed the insult, for now. Focusing on what was more important, his money, and Harry, he attempted once again to project his grandfatherly persona. “I have a familiar, Fawkes. I was just so concerned for Harry’s wellbeing I couldn’t wait another moment to see him.” Glancing around him, he saw no one was believing his lie. “I normally wouldn’t resort to such measures of course,” he continued, refusing to give up. “I simply felt that with poor Severus’s past associations with the Potter’s, he would be less than pleased with having to care for the boy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Albus either didn’t notice or chose to ignore Harry’s flinch when he said ‘the boy,’ but Snape did. He stepped in front of Harry, face smooth and void of any emotion. “My relationship with the Potters was was one of the best of my life. Nothing would bring me more joy than knowing that I could honor James and Lily’s memory by caring for their son, who is sitting right here and is called Harry.” Dumbledore’s eyebrows had slowly risen throughout Snape’s speech, nearly out of sight by the time he finished. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry looked in awe at the man towering in front of him, protecting him from the man he now knew was Albus Dumbledore. No one had ever cared enough to stop Dudley and his gang from bullying him. No one had ever cared enough to notice he was there. And Harry couldn’t even begin to process the new revelation that Snape knew his parents. He had, of course, made the connection unconsciously when the will was read, but he had been distracted by a great many things. He now took a moment to comprehend what exactly that meant. Snape could tell him things about his parents. He could tell him whether or not he looked like them, if his mother laughed a lot or if his father was kind. Harry, for the first time since he had opened the door for Snape, felt pure, uncontained joy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vladshik, who had been seething quietly while Snape dealt with Albus, suddenly looked up. A gasp escaped his mouth before he could help himself, and both goblins and wizards alike turned to look at him. No words were needed, however, as all eyes immediately turned to Harry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The small boy was still curled in the corner of his chair, Quartz wrapped around his neck protectively. But something was different. Harry was glowing. A soft rainbow aura of light seemed to surround him. A huge grin covered his face, and he was staring at Severus. Everyone in the room could feel the power rolling off the young wizard before them in waves. It seemed to dance around the room, caressing everyone’s magic. “Harry?” Said Snape quietly, deciding to ignore Albus for the time being. “Are you alright?” Harry merely nodded, and Severus realized he wasn’t likely to get a complete answer from him while his magic was acting like this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snape had seen several types of accidental magic and performed quite a few himself. But Harry’s magic was different than anything he’d ever seen before. It seemed to be linked closely to Harry’s emotions, which was normal, but it was the way his magic acted that was unusual. Most young children would summon a favorite toy or treat, make something minor explode, or levitate themselves. But the way that Harry’s magic appeared almost sentient was astonishing. Very few witches and wizards had been recorded with this type of power, and none in the last several hundred years.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, my boy,” said Albus, eyes gleaming as he realized truly how much magic the boy could wield. He stepped forward, arms raised in what he thought was a very welcoming gesture. Dumbledore paused when Snape turned his attention away from Harry and back onto him, his onyx eyes glittering dangerously. “Severus, you know I only want what is best for the boy! There is no need for this ridiculous act anymore. Harry is my magical ward, as I am his magical guardian. So, really, it is best that you step to the side and let me take him back to his aunt and uncle’s house. I’ve been in contact with them, and they miss him terribly.” Albus smiled gently at Snape, his grin practically dripping with condescension. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vladhisk was tiring of this petty wizarding drama. Dumbledore had only been here for a few minutes, but he had already insulted the Goblin Nation, Snape, and most of all, Harry. While Vladhisk didn’t often think highly of wizards, his magic was screaming at him to protect this one. Snape was also quite protective, putting him in Vladhisk’s good books. Harry’s magic was settling down, leaving the young wizard visibly exhausted, his eyes already drooping. This too was proof enough to trust Snape - Harry clearly trusted him enough to protect him while he was sleeping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enough,” he snarled. Snapping his fingers, Dumbledores wand flew through the air and landed in his outstretched palm. Both Snape and Albus looked at him in surprise. Vladhsik resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Witches and wizards always seemed to forget that goblins were older than them and that their magic was just as powerful. It was what had made the Goblin Wars so bloody and long. It had been too evenly matched. Nowadays, goblins took advantage of the fact that wizards forgot they were more than just bankers, hiding their magic until the opportune moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Albus Dumbledore, you were not invited to this </span>
  <em>
    <span>private</span>
  </em>
  <span> meeting between my client and his chosen confidante. Not only this, but you greatly bent the law in appearing in here. You will now be escorted from the building, and the Ministry will be contacted to ensure this type of travel in and out of Gringotts is banned.” He steepled his fingers and waited. While he would have loved to bring up the will and accusation of administering potions to a minor without consent, Harry hadn’t asked him to. To do so without his permission was greatly frowned upon. He would not lose this account simply to watch the old man tremble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Severus couldn’t help the smirk that flashed across his face as he watched Vladshik tear into Dumbledore. He glanced at Harry who was barely conscious. He was greatly honored that Harry trusted him enough to let down his guard so much. It of course helped that Quartz was wrapped protectively around his neck, hissing threateningly. Hearing that Vladshik was nearly done, he straightened his back and turned around to once again face Dumbledore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Albus was livid. Not only did this lowly </span>
  <em>
    <span>goblin </span>
  </em>
  <span>dare to steal his wand, but he had threatened him. Him! Albus Dumbledore! His grandfatherly persona dropped as soon as the goblin finished, and he stood to his full height. He knew he struck an imposing figure, it was why he slouched so much. Anything to make people trust him more, after all. He noticed Snape’s small flinch and couldn’t help but grin to himself. He stalked forwards slowly, ignoring the growls reverberating around the room from the goblins behind him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen here, goblin, and listen good. I am that boys guardian, magical and legal. If anything, I should be informing my ministry and your superiors of the lack of notification I received regarding my ward. As for my appearance into this bank, there is no proof such a thing exists. And even if you were to take the memories out, I am the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and Supreme Mugwump. The memories of goblins have never and never will hold up anywhere. As for those two," he gestured to Snape and Harry. "I am the magical guardian of one, and memories cannot be taken from a minor without consent from a guardian. So it's my word against Snape's, and I think we all know who will win in that scenario.  Now. I will be taking my ward and returning him to the loving and caring guardians I placed him with before until he is due to arrive at Hogwarts. Good day.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snorting softly under his breath, Dumbledore turned on his heel and walked the few steps towards Harry. Snape had been frozen since Albus had strode forwards, and reached out with his wand to late. Dumbledore grabbed Harry's arm in a tight grasp, nails digging in painfully. Harry hardly flinched. With one last dramatic glare thrown over his shoulder at Vladshik, he put his arm in the air and shouted, “Fawkes!”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Time Standing Still</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you all so much for your comments and kudos! They mean so much and help keep me motivated to update more frequently. Lots of love, and enjoy this next chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Much can happen in the moments between heartbeats. Many people scoff at such a notion, believing time to be an unchangeable thing, unable to speed up or slow down. But Harry, with startling clarity, suddenly understood. The very air around him seemed to slow. All the sounds around him disappeared. Harry could hear his heartbeat as though it was a drum, pounding in his ears. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ba Bum. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dumbledores hand closed around Harry’s arm, and a blinding flash filled the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ba Bum. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Fawkes appeared, a silent cry piercing the room. Snape’s eyes widened as he began to fling himself forwards. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ba Bum. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dumbledore reached for Fawkes’s tail feather, and Harry’s eyes couldn’t help but slip shut.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>Ba Bum. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Rage filled Harry’s veins as his brain caught up with the scene playing out all around him. Time now froze completely. There was Vladhsik, his mouth open a defiant roar as he tried to summon the goblin warriors fast enough to save Harry. Snape was mid-leap, his eyes filled with desperation. Dumbledore had completely dropped the image of a kind old man and was now smirking with the knowledge that he had won. Harry felt akin to a favorite toy, with everyone around him trying desperately to grab him first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a strength he didn’t know he possessed, he ripped his arm from Dumbledore’s grip just as the world snapped like a rubber band back into action. Albus’s eyes widened as he realized he had lost Harry, but it was too late. Fawkes, with a piercing scream, vanished with Dumbledore in tow. Severus landed partially on the chair, his knee slamming into the floor with a resounding </span>
  <em>
    <span>crack</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Harry winced in sympathy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The goblins had charged forwards at Vladshiks command but were left with little to do when their prey disappeared. Vladshik now stood perfectly still, his eyes narrowed and glinting dangerously. “Contact the ministry at once,” he snarled at Rilpon, the most senior guard there. “I want this reported and do it quietly.” Rilpon bowed before leaving with the other guards. Vladshik now turned to Harry and Snape. Harry was still on his chair, looking slightly confused. Snape was on the floor, gritting his teeth as his fingers probed his knee. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The...time,” Harry said softly. “It slowed down, and then it stopped.” Both wizard and goblin turned to look at him, shock written on their faces. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean, Harry?” Asked Snape, exchanging a glance with Vladhsik.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When he grabbed me. I could hear my heartbeat really loud, and everything slowed down. Then I got really mad, and that’s when I pulled my arm away and time started again.” Vladhsik sat back down heavily. Snape’s proud figure slumped slightly, and neither one said a word. Harry shrunk back in his chair, afraid he had done something wrong. He didn’t have anywhere he could run, so he hoped that if he made himself small enough they wouldn’t punish him for the weird thing he had witnessed.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All three sat in silence for a while, no one sure who should speak first. Even Quartz was unusually quiet. There was an occasional groan from the floor when Snape readjusted, and every once in a while there would be footsteps echoing in the hallway outside. The silence was abruptly broken when the door swung open, the same goblin who had brought in the will earlier looking in nervously. All three of the room’s occupants turned to look at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry for the interruption,” he said, glancing between Vladshik and the floor. “We contacted the Ministry, but it appears Dumbledore beat us there. They’re sending a team of Aurors to retrieve Harry Potter and arrest Severus Snape for kidnapping a minor.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry was suddenly wide awake. This could mean he would have to go back to the Dursleys. And if Dumbledore knew about the abuse, and had kept him there anyway, what’s to say it wouldn’t get even worse? Before he realized it, he was hyperventilating and Snape was squatting on the floor in front of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Breathe, Harry. You have to breathe.” Severus inhaled and exhaled in an exaggerated fashion. Quartz was hissing quietly in Harry’s ear. Together, they managed to calm Harry down in a few minutes. Once he was calmer, Severus gently placed his hand face-up on the armrest of Harry’s chair. He waited patiently as Harry’s eyes darted to the hand and back up to Snape’s face. He smiled gently for what felt like the first time in years. Hesitantly, Harry placed his small hand into Snapes. A wave of calm rushed over him, and he relaxed back into the chair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vladhsik had watched the interaction between the two with silent interest. Glancing back at the goblin still standing in the doorway, he quickly made a choice. “Go get two compulsion and potion tests, and a magical guardian ritual goblin.” He barked in gobbledygook. The goblin barely managed a quick bow before practically running back down the hallway. Right now, it was a race against the clock, and they needed to win. Vladshik cleared his throat, gaining the attention of both Harry and Severus. “We need to go to a ritual room. The Aurors are not permitted to disturb any rituals taking place, regardless of warrants. Let’s go.” Nodding, Severus helped Harry stand up, who between the panic attack and magical outburst was thoroughly exhausted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vladshik led them out of the main door of the office and further down the hallway. Harry was still gripping Severus’s hand. Just as Harry was about to beg them to stop and take a break, Vladshik stopped. In front of them was a large marble door with runes etched onto the surface. There was no handle, and two of the largest goblins Harry had ever seen flanked the doorway. Stepping forwards, Vladhsik placed his hand on a seemingly random part of the door. Nothing happened for a few seconds. Then, with a loud groan, the door simply disappeared. “Come on,” said Vladhsik, waving them through. Already inside was the goblin from earlier and a new goblin. She was wearing startling blue robes and muttering under her breath in gobbledygook. Both looked up when the three of them stepped into the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” said the robed goblin, stepping forwards. “We need to do the magical guardian ritual first, as consent from a magical guardian is needed to administer the compulsions and potions test.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vladhsik nodded. He had anticipated this, which is why he had been in such a hurry to get them here. The Aurors wouldn’t take long to mobilize, especially where Dumbledore and the goblins were involved. He turned to Harry, who was blinking sleepily from his hiding place behind Severus’s robes. “Now, Harry. This ritual is no different than the other two you’ve done, alright? It requires your parent’s will and a drop of blood. It will then write who your magical guardian is in this book. This book is the only way to be verified as a magical guardian and is uncontestable.” Harry nodded in understanding before stepping out from behind Snape. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, I’m ready,” he said softly. He walked forwards, giving the female goblin a shaky smile. She held out a small knife and his parents will. Cutting the tip of his finger, he watched as a single drop of blood dripped onto his mother’s handwriting. The goblin began chanting in gobbledygook and the parchment began to glow. A soft breeze drifted around the room before flipping the pages of the Book of Guardians. A matching glow appeared, and Harry held his breath. He wished, as hard as he could, that it would say Snape’s name. He may have only known him for a day, but he was the first adult besides the librarian to pay attention to him in a good way in a long time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All at once, the glowing stopped. Harry healed his finger and slowly shuffled over to the massive book. There, in glittering gold letters, were the words that made Harry’s heart stop.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Harry James Potter - Minor</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Magical Guardian - Severus Tobias Snape</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Muggle Guardians - Vernon and Petunia Dursley - Overruled by magical guardianship.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry couldn’t help the small sob that escaped him as he fell to the floor. So much had happened, so much had changed, but this. This was proof that showed he was truly free. Severus ran forwards to the small boy, lifting him up without a second thought. Harry clutched at Snape’s robes, his eyes drifting shut as exhaustion from his third ritual of the day finally caught up with him. Snape looked down at the book, a relieved gasp slipping through his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He cradled the small boy closer to him, finally able to feel for the first time what he had suspected all along. Harry’s ribs stuck out much too far, and even through his shirt, Snape could trace the ridges of multiple scars. He turned to the three goblins in the room, all of whom were watching the scene unfold with small smiles. It was almost uncanny. Before today, Severus had never seen a goblin do more than frown or smirk. But the small boy in his arms had changed all of that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vladshik stepped forwards and peered at the book, nodding as though he already knew what it would say. “I suspected as much,” he said quietly, glancing at Severus. “The way your magic was able to soothe him earlier, only a parent or guardian can do that.” Severus bowed his head in understanding. He had always wondered how his mother had been able to calm him down so easily when his magic had tried to lash out at his father. Now he knew. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to wake him,” he said, gesturing to the sleeping boy in his arms. “Is there any way to deal with the Aurors without waking him? And could we put the compulsion and potions test off until tomorrow?” Vladshik nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We just need to get the lead Auror to see the Book of Guardians. They’ll have to leave you alone after that, or Lady Magic herself might come after them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as Vladhsik finished speaking, there was pounding on the door. “Open up, goblins! We have a warrant!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vladhsik motioned to the other two goblins in the room. Both disappeared out a small door that Snape hadn’t even noticed until then. Vladhsik then whispered something under his breath and the door disappeared. On the other side were six Aurors, all with wands drawn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, do come in,” said Vladshik, waving them forwards with his hand. The apparent Head Auror stepped forwards, and Snape had to bite down a curse as he realized who it was. Alastor Moody, also known as one of Dumbledore’s lapdogs. The man should have retired long ago, but with Dumbledore’s influence, he still held a position. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Severus Snape, you are hereby under arrest for the kidnapping of a child and use of magic on muggles. Please put the boy down, or we will be forced to remove him from you.” Snape snorted. He’d like to see them try. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ladies and gentlemen, if you would please enter the room in an orderly fashion, you will notice that this is the Room of Guardians. This here is the Book of Guardians. If you would be so kind as to look at it, you will see that Lady Magic herself has declared Severus Snape as Harry Potter’s magical guardian.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One could have heard a pin drop. No one moved, and Moody’s face was slowly turning a dark shade of purple. “Lies!” He hissed, limping forwards. Vladhsik turned towards him sharply, growling. The wizard stopped and looked behind him as if realizing for the first time that his team wasn’t right behind him. He faltered slightly. Slowly, one by one, the rest of the Aurors filed into the room. Most of them were seasoned Aurors, pulled from their normal posts and teams to follow Moody here on a ‘special mission.’ None were happy to be there, and no one wanted to contest the Book. They had all heard stories of those who had tried, and how Lady Magic had had her revenge for doubting her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of the braver Aurors pushed forwards until she was in front of the book, and quickly took in what was written there. Clear as day, Severus Snape was Harry Potter’s guardian. Stepping back, she gestured for the rest of them to check. One by one, they all checked. No one doubted the truth of it, as they could all feel the magic pouring off the book itself. The first Auror now faced Moody, a cold look in her eye. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen here, Moody. I was in the middle of a mission briefing when I was pulled into this nonsense, and I don’t appreciate that in the slightest. This clearly states what the goblin said is true, which invalidates the warrant. I’m sure if you checked it, you would already see its no longer valid.” She turned sharply and walked out of the room, the others falling silently into line behind her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moody seemed to be frozen. He slowly looked at the warrant clutched in his hand before scowling. “Don’t think this is over, Snape. Not in the slightest.” He then turned and limped away, muttering under his breath the whole way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” said Snape, swaying back and forth as he felt Harry stir. “For not backing down.” Vladhsik gave him a toothy grin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think it’s time we called this a day, don’t you?” With Severus nodding his agreement, the two left the room. It was a short walk back to the main lobby, as Vladhsik had a secret corridor reserved only for upper-level management. When Snape spilled out into the main lobby, it was nearly deserted. Casting </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tempus,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was shocked to see it was nearly six. Waving goodbye to Vlashik, he carried Harry to the wall of floo’s. Grabbing a handful of floo dust, he threw it into the flames. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spinner’s end,” he whispered as he stepped into the flames.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. A Shared Past</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Good lord, it has been a month since I updated. I am so so sorry and very thankful to all those who are sticking with me. In the past month, I have moved and I am currently dealing with a depressive episode, but writing makes me happy! So here we are. </p>
<p>Also, my new guilty pleasure has been this show called Murder Maps on Netflix, about old British crimes and I love it so much. If anyone wants a good show, highly recomned. Anyways. Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Harry woke up alone. Frowning, he tried to recall how he came to be in the large bed he lay in. He cast a cursory glance around the room, hardly taking in any details besides the large door that he assumed led into a hallway. He remembered reading the Book of Guardians, and he once again felt a rush of relief knowing that Snape was his new guardian. He hadn’t dared hope too much, lest the universe decide once again to smack him down. Without giving it much thought he summoned his glasses from the bedside table next to him and slipped out from underneath the covers. With a practiced walk that made no sound, he made his way to the door, ears straining the hear anything coming from the other side. While he was still very happy that Snape was his guardian, and he had seemed kind enough yesterday both at the Dursleys and the Bank, he had only known the man for one day. One can never be too careful. He had learned that the hard way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He froze just as his fingertips ghosted the handle of the door, suddenly paranoid. What if Snape didn’t want him to leave his room? The door was obviously closed for a reason. If he left the rooms, and Snape was angry, would he hit him? Lock him away, take away his food, refuse to teach him magic? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry gnawed on his bottom lip. He desperately wanted to explore, and he could use a bathroom as well. Making up his mind with a forced decisiveness, he abruptly swung the door open. He flinched on pure instinct more than anything else, rolling out of the way of the fist inches from his face. Backing up until he was pressed against a wall, his brain caught up with his body. There was Snape, a tray laden with food in one hand and the other poised to knock. There was not an ounce of pity on the man’s face, rather a look of understanding. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Snape couldn’t help the flash of empathy as he looked at Harry who was cowering on the opposite side of the room. It had taken him ages to stop expecting the raised hands offering congratulations to instead strike him down. Only time, good friends, and a trusted adult confidante had helped Severus heal. That being said, he guarded his feelings close to his chest, letting few people in. In his opinion, emotional abuse was as traumatizing as the physical. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He walked into the room, moving slow enough that Harry could easily track his moves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Snape looked up in surprise. Harry was now standing, a sheepish look on his face as he shifted from one foot to the other. ”Don’t be,” he replied, setting the tray down on the desk before turning towards Harry. “You don’t ever have to apologize for reacting to a situation like that.” Harry nodded slowly, his disbelief evident. Suddenly he looked around, a desperate look on his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where is Quartz? Is she okay?” He started towards the door, his breath quickening as his mind conjured images of her lying dead somewhere or locked in a cage with dozens of small children poking her. Just as he was about to fling the door open, he felt a small voice inside his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Do calm down, Master, you are making a fool of yourself.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry gasped, bending in half as relief flooded his body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Harry?” Snape called, starting towards him before stopping himself. “I let Quartz out earlier, she seemed hungry. Is she alright?” Harry couldn’t do anything but nod, his brain still processing the fact that Quartz could speak in his mind. While she had of course spoken to him yesterday, he had so many other more pressing things to focus on than hearing his snake in his head. Straightening, he sent a rueful grin towards Snape. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This familiar thing is handy,” he said with a small laugh. Snape nodded, understanding now why Harry had reacted so viscerally. He gestured towards the tray. Harry slowly walked forwards, a small part of him waiting for Snape to grab it at the last minute. Reaching the tray with nothing to sustain his fears, he blinked in surprise. He had expected extravagance, heavy foods he wasn’t used to eating. Instead, there was some toast, a few pieces of sausage, and a cup of tea. Looking up at Snape, he raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t think you would be able to eat much more than that.” Harry blushed and looked at his feet, suddenly aware of just how thin he must be. “I was the same,” said Severus softly as he walked to an old leather chair in the corner of the room. Harry looked up, curiosity barely contained. Snape gave him a small smile and nodded to the food. Harry sighed but sat down and began eating. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My upbringing,” Snape said, “was not unlike your own.” Harry’s eyes widened but didn’t dare speak. He had never had someone tell him something personal before, and he certainly had never met anyone who had gone through what he had. He studied the man in front of him, trying to see the scars. He went over every interaction he had watched the man have and tried to remember if he ever flinched the way harry did, or seemed uncomfortable when someone tried to challenge him. He couldn’t recall a single time. Severus had always appeared calm, collected, even when showing minor signs of anger The only time he had seen emotion on his face was when he was looking at Harry. He choked a bit on his food at that realization. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Snape raised an eyebrow but made no move to speak. He was clearly letting Harry digest this news, and would only proceed once he made it clear he was alright. Harry sat for a few minutes, slowly chewing his food as he reexamined his idea of the man sitting before him. Finally, he tilted his head slightly at Snape, and the man continued.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My mother was a brilliant witch. She came from a pureblood family, which meant that all those in her family had been born witches or wizards, and married others who were the same. The Prince family.” Snape paused as an avalanche of memories assaulted his. With a slight shake of his head, he dislodged the image of his father screaming at him and continued. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eileen Prince, that was her name. She fell in love with a muggle, Tobias Snape.” He couldn’t help the sneer that crossed his face as he mentioned the man’s name, and Harry understood this was Snapes Uncle Vernon. Snape folded his hands in his lap before continuing. “Her family disowned her for marrying him. They had eloped, you see, in order to prevent her family from stopping them. My mother's parents were strict purebloods. They might not have believed in blood superiority, but they did believe in marrying into a certain social class. My father was not that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My mother, foolishly believing in the power of love, did not inform my father of her magic until after they were married. Their relationship took a dark turn after that as I’m sure you can imagine.” Harry nodded almost absentmindedly as he sipped at his tea, utterly enthralled with Severus’s tale. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not long after, I was born. The first few years were fine. My mother never used her magic, and my father drank heavily as though to forget all he had learned about it. Both knew that there was a chance I could be born without magic, and it was that thought that they clung to for as long as they could. But the Prince bloodline was strong, and I had my first case of accidental magic at the age of three. I floated a favorite toy of mine across the room while my father, unfortunately, was holding me.” Harry had now finished his tea and was sat at the edge of his seat, horrified by the realities of Snape and his mother’s lives so far. Yet a small part of him, a part he didn’t dare acknowledge, was glad to know he wasn’t alone in being raised by people who despised magic. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is, as you would expect, where things get unpleasant. I won’t go into too much detail, but suffice to say my father’s drinking intensified and my mother and I were black and blue more often than not. I had quite a few broken bones as a child, but lucky for me my mother was a rather well-known potions mistress before she married Tobias. She had a small room she had magically hidden and was able to make me bruise paste and skele-gro, which is a potion that can regrow bones in a few days.” Snape let out a small chuckle at the look of awe on Harry’s face before sobering and continuing his dreadful story.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When I was about eight or so, I saw a little girl about my age lifting small pebbles by the river’s edge. I was ecstatic. Someone else who could do magic. I introduced myself and we became the best of friends. Her name was Lily Evans.” Harry gasped. He knew, of course, that Snape had known his mother. But hearing that they met so young and were so close brought tears to his eyes. He couldn’t help the explosion of questions that followed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Was she pretty? Had she known about magic before you knew her? What about her family, was Aunt Petunia always rotten about it? Were her parents nice? What were their names? Did-” Harry was cut off by Snapes laugh, which had started out as a quiet thing but was now loud and filled with a joy Harry had never heard the man express before. “Sorry,” he whispered, his cheeks once again blushed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no, I expected questions. She was your mother after all. I do not begrudge you for being so curious about a woman I doubt you can remember much of.” Harry smiled. As though suddenly remembering his whirlwind of questions he had thrown at Severus, his gaze switched from humor and relief to expectant. Letting out one last small chuckle, Snape sat a little taller and tried to remember all of Harry’s questions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, she was pretty. She had long, deep red hair. She ran around with me so often though, she almost always had it put up in some sort of lazy bun. It used to drive her crazy,” he recalled with a smile. “She was insistent that she would cut it off the minute she left home. She never did though. As for knowing about magic, she came from a muggle family. That means that her parents weren’t magic. So while she knew she could do odd things that her sister couldn’t, she wasn’t aware there were more people like her, let alone a whole society. As for her family, her parents had no idea about any of it. They simply thought that Petunia was making up silly stories and that she would grow out of it. And your aunt. She didn’t always hate magic. She was fascinated by it. She would chase Lily and I everywhere, and never gave up trying to get the magic to work for her too.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry couldn’t help the snort that escaped him. His Aunt Petunia, wanting to have magic? He didn’t believe it. Snape said nothing at Harry’s reaction, deciding to merely let him adjust to the new perspective he was introducing to him of his aunt. Several minutes passed, Harry’s mumbles nearly silent as he shifted back and forth in his chair. He alternated between looking at the floor and at Snape, biting his lip. He finally sat back, arms crossed and brow furrowed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright. Fine. I believe you.” Snape nodded his head minutely as Harry let out a very put off sigh. Snape grinned, a small thing went as fast as it was there. Harry was obviously getting more comfortable around him, as yesterday’s behavior was much different than today’s. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As for your last question. Your mother’s parent’s names were Robert and Mary Evans. They passed not long after your aunt was married to your uncle.” Harry nodded, his curiosity momentarily satiated. “Your mother was suspicious of all my bruises, cuts, and burns but I never confirmed her suspicions. I was terrified that my father would find her and beat her too. Not sound logic, I can see that now, but as a young child, it made plenty of sense. We finally got our Hogwarts letters and I was able to escape my father's wrath for months at a time. I never went home for holidays, only when forced to for summer break.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My mother, however, could not escape. Now that his son was at a school for magic, Tobias was once again blaming my mother. He would drink even more and beat her senseless. One day, my mother was so weak her enchantments around her potions room failed. My father discovered it and was sent into a terrible rage. My mother died that night. I was fourteen.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” Snape looked up. Harry was studying him, a look of understanding in his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you.” Harry looked away, clearly uncomfortable with the thanks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened after that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not much changed, except now I was a ward of Hogwarts. My father went to prison for life. I spent my summers at Hogwarts, along with a few other orphans who had nowhere to go. Your mother and I stayed close friends and would exchange letters all break. She would force me to come over for Christmas, and her parents always treated me well. Petunia, however, had turned bitter with jealousy. When we were fifteen, your mother began to be courted by your father, James Potter. He had a good group of friends in school, although they were always getting into mischief. I know you have questions about him,” Snape said, raising his hand to stop the words about to fall from Harry’s mouth. “But it will have to wait for another time. We have to finish up at the bank.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We have more to do?” Asked Harry, surprised. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, we need to check for any spells or potions that may have been cast on you. I suppose me as well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright,” said Harry, standing up. “Let me get Quartz first, and then we can go.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dumbledores office was in ruins. His robes were slightly scorched, and Fawkes had long since disappeared after he had thrown a hefty book at him. The portraits that usually were full of previous headmasters and mistresses were empty. Dumbledore stood in the middle of the carnage, his chest heaving. On the desk behind him, the only untouched piece of furniture, lay a small letter. A ministry owl had dropped it off earlier that day.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Albus-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The Book of Guardians has named Snape as Harry’s guardian. My hands are legally tied, and the rest of the Aurors aren’t too pleased with me or you at the moment. Let me know if there is any other way I can help.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>-Moody</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>How on earth was he supposed to go against the Book of Guardians? It had been challenged in the Wizengamot, and even the ICW. No one had ever won a case. With a wave of his wand, his office slowly began to knit itself back together. Books that had been ripped to pieces shifted into piles and slowly emerged whole. Some of his more priceless artifacts took a little longer to become whole, but soon Dumbledore sat in a fully restored office. All he had to do now was figure out what to do with the boy. </span>
</p>
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